


Bloom of the Doubtflower

by asterCrash



Category: LOVECRAFT H. P. - Works
Genre: Cryptozoology, Elder God, Flowers, Great Old Ones, Mind Control, Miskatonic University, Possession
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-08
Updated: 2015-06-08
Packaged: 2018-04-03 11:42:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4099684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asterCrash/pseuds/asterCrash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I’d always believed the universe to be an observable thing."<br/>"I have come to doubt this belief. The flowers tell me so."<br/>"These will be the last words I write, I have no doubt of that. They’re in my lungs"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bloom of the Doubtflower

_Journal of Doctor Emily Braithwaite 22nd September 1994 - Final entry_  
I’d always believed the universe to be an observable thing. That everything that existed was made up of components we could break down and identify. I have come to doubt this belief. The flowers tell me so. Whatever she was before I can no longer avoid the knowledge that the Lady of the Flowers walks among us now, and I hope only that I am the last to die for this knowing. These will be the last words I write, I have no doubt of that. They’re in my lungs

* * *

_Letter to Dr. Emile Rathbone 15th March 1994_ Dr. Rathbone,  
The samples you sent arrived at Miskatonic today, though I have to say I am confused by the polaroids you sent me from their origin. That chapel-like structure was completely buried before your team arrived was it not? There must have been some light source, else the flowers could not have grown. I’m also curious as to the makeup of the statue they were growing from. It looked like no rock I’ve ever seen so that perhaps explains how they were able to sustain themselves. If you could please send a sample of the statue itself and the earth surrounding it that would be of great help to our investigation.  
Fondest regards,  
Dr. Emily Braithwaite, Professor of Botany Miskatonic U.

* * *

_Research log update #47 8th of April 1994_  
It’s taken weeks but we’ve finally discovered a soil composition that the seeds Dr. Rathbone sent will grow in. The new seedlings are sprouting nicely in a mixture that is essentially igneous granite, some ground ox bone and mulch that’s been soaked in pig’s blood. Janet expressed her discomfort with hand-mixing the fertiliser, she was always a sensitive girl. I explained we couldn’t risk a commercial mix accidentally killing these samples, but eventually I had to assign the mixing to David instead. We’ve lost two thirds of the original batch Dr. Rathbone sent, and as we’ve heard nothing from him since the original shipment I doubt we can afford to lose any more.

* * *

_Memorandum from the Dean’s office 5th of May 1994_  
Dr. Braithwaite,  
I sincerely recommend you re-test your samples and take a hard look at both your results and academic history with this university. Miskatonic has spent half a century trying to shake off its history as a house of occultist crackpots and we cannot tolerate you further endangering what gains we’ve made. Referencing the heretical and thoroughly debunked research of William Dyer in your analysis of whatever bunch of posies you got a research grant to prod is exactly the kind of nonsense we will no longer tolerate at this institution. Whatever resemblance you believe the genetics of your flowers have to the structure of Dyer’s completely fictitious “elder things” is utterly irrelevant to your studies. Any further such academic slander on this university and your position and that of your team will be UNDER REVIEW. I hope I have made myself clear.

* * *

_Journal of Dr. Emily Braithwaite 10th May 1994_  
I have begun this journal as I can no longer risk having my true thoughts on this project listed in my research notes. The university would gladly bury me if I threatened to publish even half of what I have discovered of these flowers. Their structure is unlike any plant I studied before, indeed unlike any other plant on this planet. Were I at any other institution I might not have recognised the link between these flowers and autopsy reports from the 1930s antarctic expedition. I once joined most of the faculty in laughing at the obvious madness of Dyer and all the other occult tales circling Miskatonic. I have begun to doubt my self-righteous disbelief of these tales. David has taken the faculty’s ‘feedback’ especially hard. He is now prone to long evenings in the library, researching cases similar to ours, cases of unusual biology. If I didn’t need the extra hands I would have dismissed him as an assistant. He says the flowers have been talking to him. Janet is very quiet lately.

* * *

 

_Patient file note--Janet Beauchamp 12th May 1994_  
Patient arrived reporting general itching sensations all over her body. Stated sensation had begun less than a week ago. No known allergies and no signs of an allergic reaction. Close examination showed small parasites imbedded in the patient’s skin with extrusions near invisible to the eye, even when viewed under a magnifying glass. Though irregularly scattered these extrusions were common in several regions of the body. Examinations showed them present on arms, legs, neck, torso. They seem to be concentrated towards the stomach and erogenous zones but do not appear to consistently gravitate towards areas of increased blood flow. Attempted to remove one such parasite but patient experienced extreme pain at this point and requested I stop. The patient refused to proceed any further at that point and quickly got dressed. I tried to offer suggestions on how the parasites might be cleared, the patient stated that she doubted I could help and left the clinic.  
Signed,  
Dr. Alice Boyd, M.D.

* * *

 

_Unsigned note, found after lecture 1st June 1994_  
Dr. Braithewaite-- you have no idea what you’ve discovered. It must be destroyed. You are opening this world to danger it cannot face. The Doubtflower must not be allowed to bloom. The Lady cannot take control.

* * *

 

_Journal of Dr. Emily Braithwaite 1st June 1994_  
Despite receiving one of the most bizarrely sexist threats of my career I am happy to say that our little flowers are coming along beautifully. The seedlings have now begun budding and at a guess we should be seeing some blossoms by late July though the blooming will not be complete until the end of September. Then we should have all the seed samples we need to send these to labs across the country, maybe even around the world. Once my findings have been replicated in a hundred labs that ass of a dean will have to admit I was right. I worry sometimes though. When the stress seems to much I hear faint echoes, a needling voice in my ear, whispering all my doubts back to me. I think it’s just all the frustration working its way out. This project will either make my career or destroy it.

* * *

 

_Letter to Dr. Braithwaite 25th June 1994_  
Emily,  
I received the sprouts you sent to me as well as the instructions for how to grow them, but why are you sending these so much earlier to me than we originally planned? I can already confirm much of what your team discovered, these sprouts share characteristics of plants and some animalistic traits. I’ll get to growing them right away but please, Emily, all this panicking about your doubts has gotten me worried. Could you let me know what has you so bothered?  
Sincerely,  
Dr. Joan Davison

* * *

 

_Journal of Dr. Emily Braithwaite 1st July 1994_  
This project is pushing us all to breaking point. Janet has withdrawn almost completely and merely goes about her work with the occasional cryptic comment as to our progress. Documentation of all steps of the flowers’ growth is kept locked in my office for fear of some snoop from the dean’s office trying to find excuses to cut us off. The paranoia has gripped David worst. I visited him in the library the other night and found him reading the university’s surviving copy of the Necronomicon. I can see why he would be looking there for answers given how strongly our work resembles some of the old occult tales floating around the campus, but I doubt he’s finding anything of use in that pile of delusional rantings.

* * *

 

_Excerpt of the pulp novel “CURSE OF THE EVIL FLOWERS!” by L.R. Deringer, rejected by publisher on 17th June 1994_  
Chapter 15 - A Nightmare  
Oh how our tragic scientist writhed on her bed, unable to escape the bad dreams brewing in her head. Dreams of blossoms bursting from within her, a bounty of new life, only for those self-same flowers to stare at her with scorn, to criticise her every thought and every word and to call upon her the weight of doubt she feared the most. Her skin wracked with itching she tossed and turned, the creeping roots already deep within her flesh, growing to her nerves and laying seed within her brain where the rot would do its most grievous damage. The living poison flowed through her veins and found its home wherever her flesh gave it purchase, she could do naught to stop it for in truth she was unaware to this malign possession, this subtle occupation. All the while the ringing in her ears did grow, a softer murmur, an unheard whisper just at the edge of the dreaming scientist’s consciousness. A doubt, “your mind is not your own.”

* * *

 

_Journal of Dr. Braithwaite 29th June 1994_  
David died last night. I don’t want to write this down, I don’t even like thinking about it, but I have to put the word down on paper as soon as I can. The longer I leave thoughts to stew the harder it becomes to recall them clearly. I keep changing my mind about how it happened, the second I remember anything specific I begin to doubt it until I can’t be sure if I imagined having a second assistant entirely. So I have to write it down.

  
David hadn’t been in all day, and with only Janet for company the hours passed without my notice. For the last few weeks the only time I feel I can concentrate is when I tend to those flowers, studying them, trying to learn their secrets. It feels harder to leave the lab at night, I stay well past the cleaners leaving, well past the hall lights being switched off, until the only source of illumination seems to be the moon shining through the skylight. We found out weeks ago the flowers are not photosynthesizing so I rarely bother switching the lights on after dark. Sometimes I just stare where they should be in the darkness, seeing is no longer necessary for believing. Janet makes no complaint about the late hours, she stays as long as I do, sometimes after I’ve given up to return home for a night of fitful sleep.

  
Last night yet again the two of us toiled silently in the lab, though David normally abstains such nights he knew he could find us there. He burst in clutching that horrid book he’d been reading. The Necronomisomething, I don’t remember, it’s horrid whatever it is. He said he’d found our flowers in there, he was raving about their being dangerous. I know they are unique, and I too sometimes feel a cringe of fear when in their presence, but I doubt they’re dangerous. I mean they could maybe turn out to be a noxious weed but I doubt they’re dangerous. I only sent their seeds across the country and some overseas but I doubt they’re dangerous. I doubt it. Then he tried to tell us about someone controlling the flowers. No, I think it was someone who made the flowers? Or someone who was made out of flowers I don’t remember. She was supposed to be a woman he said. “The Lady of the Flowers”. I doubt it was anything significant, he was probably just feeling insecure because he’s the only one in the lab who couldn’t be a lady of flowers. I tried to tell him so. He said we had to destroy the flowers, but I doubt he really meant it. He knew how important they were. How much we need them. I reached out to stop him from getting closer to their pots. I tried to stop him, just stop him. I didn’t mean for him to slip when I shoved him. I doubt I did it on purpose, I only meant to protect the flowers. It wasn’t my fault that he landed that way, I couldn’t have seen those broken pots behind him in the dark. It’d been hours since I left them there, I doubt I could’ve remembered where I placed them.

  
Janet didn’t say anything the whole time. She just stood there in the darkness watching as he bled onto the linoleum. I asked her to phone an ambulance but she told me we should move the plants first. We had to put them somewhere safe. After all, what if we called a paramedic and they knocked over a pot? Then David would have died for nothing. I doubt he would have lived if we called the ambulance first.

* * *

_Autopsy of David Finnest 6th July 1994_

External Examination: Body is that of a 23 year old malnourished male. Multiple lesions in abdomen, chest and neck. Numerous small extrusions from skin present across body, removing caused damage to surface tissue but cross section showed extrusions to be plant-like organism with roots growing into the patient’s nervous system. Despite obvious cause of death internal investigation authorised due to potential for parasitic contagion.

Internal Examination: Parasitic organisms present throughout body, appear as if budding. Exploration of large intestine showed the parasites present in large concentration, also larger than extrusions on surface. Plants began blooming once intestines were opened. Pollen visibly dispersed instantly. This report written in quarantine as a precaution against unknown spores. Subject was a biology student, parasite was likely field of study. Recommend investigation into research as soon as quarantine lifted.

Cause of death: blood loss over an extended period, patient did not receive adequate medical care for two hours after injuries were sustained. Regardless, spread of parasite likely would have ensured death soon. Further examination showed parasites present in inner ear and nasal cavity. Had they spread to the brain behaviour would have been influenced before mass organ failure would result in subject death.

* * *

 

_Cessation of research order 15th July 1994_  
Dr. Braithwaite,  
In line with the unconscionable death of a student researcher due to the unsafe conditions of your lab I am ordering an immediate halt to any research activities you are conducting at Miskatonic University. Due to your reckless attitude towards occupational safety and concerns about your mental wellbeing this order will last until such time as we can establish whether you are fit to continue study. To this end we ask that you make contact with the Arkham National Institute for Mental Health as they have strong experience in assessing and caring for patients with delusions of the occult. We have already forwarded information to them regarding your research and your noted persecution complex regarding this university’s management. With the cessation of your study all samples and relevant research are expected to be turned over to the university, to be returned if and when you are cleared for work by the Arkham Institute. We understand that the samples involved in your study require upkeep that only you would be qualified to perform, but their loss is an unfortunate necessity for your return to work. It is the opinion of the Dean’s office that this project has contributed to the concerns for your mental health and as such its loss should help you on the path to recovery. You are forbidden from interacting with the samples further until you are cleared for work again.  
Signed,  
Prof. Arthur Ruben, Dean of Science Miskatonic U.  
P.S. Several samples were unaccounted for in our seizure. Please either surrender them or account for their absence immediately.

* * *

 

_Journal of Dr. Braithwaite 25th of July 1994_  
We work in silence and darkness most nights. Hidden beneath the university itself in an old storage hall. Janet was the one who showed me how to break into this abandoned section of the campus the night we moved the plants. It feels like so long ago, I doubt I can remember any of it, just faint recollections, a blur of someone slipping, falling in the moonlight. I am losing my mind. The university may be wrong about my research but they are right about my mental state. In the darkness the flowers are finally starting to bloom. I can hear them now, the way David could. They sing to me and it is by far the most unnerving sound I’ve ever heard. They whisper and speak and say and shout and scream my doubts at me. Every personal failing amplified by a hundred waving petals. Every fear repeated back by smiling eyeless faces in the darkness. Every unknown told by the unknowable itself, stalks bending in the standing air.

They whisper something very different to Janet. Some days I see the tears streaming down her face, but it’s been days since she’s said a word to me. We know how to tend to the flowers now, not through our research or our years of training, but when the flowers hold back the flood of doubt within us. Only I seem to resist them, while I struggle to fight against the screaming pounding inside my ears Janet diligently goes about her work. She tenderly treats them while I fight. Different from me, I doubt she is their slave.

* * *

 

_Journal of Dr. Braithewaite 2nd September 1994_  
Nothing happened today.

_Journal of Dr. Braithewaite 3rd September 1994_  
Nothing happened today.

_Journal of Dr. Braithewaite 4th September 1994_  
Nothing happened today.

_Journal of Dr. Braithewaite 5th September 1994_  
Nothing happened today.

* * *

_Journal of Dr. Braithewaite 6th September 1994_  
I have only the faintest grasp on my own mind. I fade in and out of lucidity and can no longer remember how long I have been in this dark hall. My eyes have become so used to this dim light that I can read and write, or I could write if the flowers would allow me. They scream within my mind if I even think about picking up a pen, I find myself buried under the doubt they heap on me. But the screaming has stopped now. They’re doing something to Janet now, I can only write this down as fast as possible before they begin again and

* * *

_Journal of Dr. Braithwaite 17th September 1994_  
The bloom is over and the doubtflower seedlings that I brought into the world have matured and spread their pollen. In either cruelty or simple thoughtlessness they’ve now abandoned me and I find my mind once more my own. Despite the return of my sanity I still hear their whispers within my ears, ever echoing back my own doubts. They are beyond my stopping, beyond anyone’s stopping. I saw them consume Janet from the inside out and turn her into something beyond the explanation of this natural world. A goddess in the flesh and flora. A Lady of Flowers. I know they’re within me as well, I am resigned to that fate. I doubt I’ll live much longer.

* * *

_Journal of Doctor Emily Braithwaite 22nd September 1994 - Final entry_  
I’d always believed the universe to be an observable thing. That everything that existed was made up of components we could break down and identify. I have come to doubt this belief. The flowers tell me so. Whatever she was before I can no longer avoid the knowledge that the Lady of the Flowers walks among us now, and I hope only that I am the last to die for this knowing. These will be the last words I write, I have no doubt of that. They’re in my lungs.

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote this a while back for a magazine, they didn't end up publishing it but I think this may be the best thing I've written to date?


End file.
